Book Review: Geek Love by Katherine Dunn

Remember when we were told fairy tales or fables that had some moral lesson embedded in the story line of prince-princess-magic-fairy-talkingAnimals-AlwaysSomethingInThrees-evil-witches-and-castles? The point of these stories was mostly to help young minds wrap around weightier life lessons of morality and issues of sound character?


In some ways this is the effect that Katherine Dunn's novel Geek Love had on me. Sometimes we have to go far askew into the land of fantasy where boundaries don't exist; because in the realm of fiction we never ask how that could be probable in order to understand a small token of our own realities. 

"People talk easily to me. They think a bald albino hunchback dwarf can't hide anything. My worst is all out in the open. It makes it necessary for people to tell you about themselves...Just being visible is my biggest confession, so they try to set me at ease by revealing our equality, by dragging out their own less apparent deformities" (156). 
It's these kinds of narrative moments revealed by the characters, in this case Oly the narrator of Geek Love, that shocked me. How could a circus freak that doesn't even really exist have gotten that kind of insight?! How did she so matter-of-factly put into words what I have experienced in public time and time again? How did her fiction mirror my reality with such precise accuracy that were it not for the - at times - confusingly organized plot line, I almost believed wholly hook, line, and sinker? 

Let me now explain why I said ALMOST believed. 

The main characters of this novel are the Binewski family members. Their mother (Lil) and father (Al) intentionally bred offspring through a series of risque experimentation. Their goal? To "breed his own freak show...."What greater gift could you offer your children than an inherent ability to earn a living just by being themselves?"" (7). So while Lil was pregnant with each of the children husband and wife would play 'mad scientist' with various drugs, insecticides, and even radioisotopes. The result: Arturo the aqua boy, siamese twin sisters Electra and Iphigenia, Oly (who describes herself above) is the dwarf, and then the mysteriously outward-appearing "normal" Chick. 
And when the Binewski's goal was meant to "breed his own freak show" .. this is not the same way most of us now use the term "freak show." I mean they were a traveling circus freak show in caravans, tents, fire breathers, popcorn, and the whole nine-yards. 

I know that there is a lot of history that is accurate in between the lines of Dunn's novel. That these traveling 'freak shows' existed at one point is one such fact; that people with 'disabilities' or more accurately deformities (or just plain looked 'off') were put on stages to be gawked at for entertainment, actually did happen. And even today it still happens! 
But this is a story that, if you are patient enough, and have a mind that's flexible enough, (particularly if you are disabled) that speaks beyond the incredibly bizarre and twisted show life of circus freaks. As Oly says at one point "Those poor hop-toads behind me are silent. I've conquered them. They thought to use and shame me but I win out by nature, because a true freak cannot be made. A true freak must be born" (20). 

Where the story's organization confuddled me was that it's a story embedded in a story. Maybe I wasn't reading carefully enough, though the 20-some-odd post-it-notes sticking outside of the book would beg to differ, but I didn't realize that this was the case until 3/4's of the way through. At this point readers come into the complexities of family relations and we are immersed in the moral conflict between Oly and her daughter Miranda. Miranda who doesn't realize she is Oly's daughter. Miranda who was not brought up as a child to make a living from her existence. Miranda who is shocked when she hears Oly tell her ""I've wished I had two heads. Or that I was invisible. I've wished for a fish's tail instead of legs. I've wished to be more special"" (34). Miranda was born with a tail and - this is where the book expands in both breadth and depth: the multitude of attitudes and perspectives towards their own physical abnormalities within a family. 
Just as this is where the story begins to get complex, it is also where I - as a reader who is disabled - might imagine that those who are not disabled can begin to empathize with the characters --

On one end of the spectrum we learn about perceived physical differences and how all of its 'glorified' strangeness impacts a person: "Arty said, "We have this advantage, that the norms expect us to be wise. ...And the more deformed we are, the higher our supposed sanctity"" (114). 

As a reader I interpreted this with the 'pedestal effect' that some people with disabilities place themselves upon. 

On the other end of the spectrum readers are also brought into the other more complex experience of disability: "None of us had ever slept in a hotel or eaten in a restaurant or flown in a plane... And we suspected, each of us, blackly and viciously, that Papa preferred his norm kid to us. With Chick he was free to go anywhere. We could live only in the show" (87). This is the experience of 'passing' that because Chick presents with 'normative' physicalities he is able to maneuver both sides of the line, his gifts unseen by any outside of the Binewski clan. 

Was this book a bit far fetched? Well of course! I knew I was getting into some crazed fantasy by page 7, but this is exactly what fiction is meant to do. It presents the extreme versions and it is up to the author to inform us something about ourselves and the lives we lead. Did Katherine Dunn do this for me? In some ways she did. I am certainly not *there* yet, or am not as comfortable with myself in comparison to the members of the Binewski family as revealed by a lot of the statements her characters make. But there is a sort of comfort I find in such books because I can go there in my brain, tugged along by the turning of each page and the stop of each dusty town the Binewski caravan pulls into... without feeling too overwhelmed or anxious to know what is the answer to this question of disability, family, and where is the line?! Because it is a book. A fiction book that will end at some point, and that is where my brain will end with it. And just maybe, just maybe.. my thoughts become a little more fluid and daring in its ability to embrace the strange.
I mean, after all those stories and fairy tales of childhood I certainly never stopped believing that three is a magically hopeful number. 

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An Ideal Community in the Woods

Several years ago I'd written a post about going off to the Easter Seals Massachusetts Explorers Camp. Here is my letter to myself pre-camp, and then post-camp. During those ensuing years much has happened, but here's a quick sum-up of my visit last week.

Last Friday I spent a day visiting the camp, this year it was held in New Hampshire, about a two hour drive away - a drive that I wasn't doing. I was just the excited yappity-yap passenger in the back who on the way back home totally crashed-and-zonked-out from the sugar high from a McDonald's soda. (It was taller than my torso that thing.. three cheers for 'merica!)
Here's my attempt at putting sun-kissed and mosquito-nibbled thoughts into some coherency for you:

"Do you know what's in the town of Shirley?" The staff person driving asked us. I looked out the window and saw only what I'd been seeing for the last hour, the top halves of trees. I shook my head.
"There used to be a boys reform school." I arched an eyebrow at him hoping for a good story.
"... that's where they send the juvenile delinquents... " the rest of the story was not as juicy as I was hoping. Something about his cousin, and we kept cruising along and passed other random towns that all looked the same to me. I was getting antsy in the back seat and just kept chatting about who knows what. At some point I quieted my incessant chatter with a granola bar.
"Well we're just about here..." finally, the words every back seat passenger on any length of a road trip wants to hear. I texted my friends and hoped that they had reception wherever they were, and as I looked out the window I saw only an field surrounded by more trees. Where were my friends? Where were the campers? 

Since the terrain was deemed a little rough on manual wheelchair users I was given access to a scooter, like the kind that I domino-effect aisles of produce with at grocery stores. (The kind that the elderly shoppers at Costco glare at me for because they think I am some bratty child using the scooter as a toy..yeah, that kinda scooter.) I became acquainted with the steering mechanism of it, and someone mentioned that we were waiting for the rest of the group to show up before we would begin the tour. The other folks in the group visiting were some mix of other Easter Seals MA staff members, and also a few board members.
When the tour finally began the first stop was the water slide activity, the young woman in charge of the activity talked about how campers were encouraged to "Try new things and make friends, and have fun.." and as she was talking I did a double take. It was R----! She'd been one of the older girls in my cabin several summers ago as a camper, I remembered her as shy and quiet, always cooperative. Her eyes fell on me in the tour group and she waved,
"Hi Sandy!" I smiled back at her, thrilled that she remembered me but even happier that she'd returned, now as someone leading other campers in various activities. That was when I was eager to not just to see my friends, but became curious to see who else had moved around within this microcosm slice of the disability community.

Because that is what fascinates me about camp. Sure I was excited to see my friends, I wanted to see the human-sized angry birds game I'd heard so much about, I even wanted to see if my old camper with the perpetual crush on that one counselor had returned...but I am not exactly one for woods, and bugs, and sleeping in strange places without access to the glow of my computer monitor. I was drawn to the visit because in my idealistic abstract mind camp is the epitome of what I want the disability community to strive towards. If I were to really push my imagination I'd even say that, in some strange cockles of my heart, there exists the fantasy that our larger society could be like that one week of camp too. It's a place of inclusion, of empowerment from campers and older counselors alike, it's where disabled and those without disabilities are all working towards that same larger goal and as a result of that collaborative environment (filled with all of the typical goofiness of any summer camp experience, and questionable food from the kitchen)  -- even if you just sit and watch, as I did as a visitor for only a few hours, is a powerful experience.
For most programs I think there is a limiting sense of 'program participant' and then 'program staff' - and rarely do many organizations recognize that concept of a 'revolving door' where participants eventually become staff members. Camp is one of those programs where the resources and knowledge from campers is so dexterously utilized that unless you have the benefit of working there over several years, you might not realize it.
It's this piece that in my observations of camp that day is the linchpin that keeps this well-oiled machine running. Those campers having been the recipient of the experience then become the outlets for having their own opportunity to dispense the experience to the next generation, the cycle then continues. A community is then created, the momentum grows and that's where the excitement is! It speaks volumes about a community that it is still able to run smoothly when the knowledge and experience is passed on, this is the mark of something successful. It's successful because it is able to continue and hold true to itself.

Around late afternoon the entire camp gathered on the basketball court before we headed to the field for the much awaited human-sized angry birds game. I saw R---- and gestured her over to the bench I was sitting next to.
"Hey so I just wanted to say how happy I was when you remembered me this morning!"
"Oh yeah. I remember you were my counselor in the Gold cabin three summers ago." She nodded firmly, and I felt slightly embarrassed that I hadn't even remembered which cabin color I was.
"Yeah! And I wanted to say that I'm really proud of you, it was great to see you now leading an activity and helping other campers experience new things."
"Oh thank you, thanks. It has really been great."
"Alright well it looks like we're all heading down to the field now for angry birds. See you there?"

Everyone got up and started heading down to the field. I stayed behind for a bit to talk to the other counselors, a few of the camper bloggers whose job it was to capture pictures and videos throughout the week. One of the camp bloggers was a youth I'd met a few years ago during a presentation I'd made at the MA Youth Leadership Forum. He rolled up to me with a grin and offered a fist pump in greeting. He was eager to show me the videos and pictures he'd captured on his tablet, we geeked out and swapped some blogger tech tips. He just as soon zipped off again to head towards the field with everyone else, not wanting to miss out on getting footage of the afternoon activity.

I swung the speed dial all the way over to the right so the arrow pointed at the bunny. I revved it and raced down the rocky path that slanted down towards the water, turning my head to make sure there were no staff around to see me flying over roots and rocks. "The less time you spend over the rocks and bumpy path would probably be the safest.." said a staff person earlier when I had first climbed into the seat. To make matters more precarious one of the camp volunteers had nudged himself into the seat next to me,
"Yes finally! A woman gets to drive." I snarked.
"Okay well, just don't prove every man right and crash.." he leaned over to the other side and gripped onto the other arm rest.
"Dude quit worrying, we so got this."
After watching the angry birds game (and the actual totally sweet way cool bird launcher someone had built), it became time for me to say good-bye to my friends. They were already getting ready for that evening's activity, the talent show and smokin s'mores over a camp fire, both of which I was sad to miss out on.
----
In my mind I felt like I fell asleep right after I climbed into the car again. I woke-up somewhere along the way,
"Sandy, you missed the entire town of Boxboro! I was going to show you all the sights of Boxboro. Now I'm going to need to turn around again."
"Nooooo!" I replied sleepily from the back. But a part of me did want him to turn around and head back to camp again, though I obviously knew that was out of the question. I settled back into some state between awake-and-sleep, quietly thinking to myself about my own ideas of sustainable communities and programs. 

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